International Battle Royal
by samantha1317
Summary: Two girls, long distance friends, find themselves in a world of horror. Sam, a pacifist, is now being forced to kill or be killed. And her best friend Grace, a budding expert on all things gorey and frightening, doesn't do as well in this horror movie of a world as she thought she would. Written 1-2 years ago for a old friend. All chapters on one long oage. Probably won't update.


Chapter 1: Dove Siamo

They were moving. Sam couldn't see anything, but they were moving. No. They weren't moving anymore. They had been, though. But where to? Her body ached, and her mind felt the way a person does when running through water. Though she'd never had a drink in her life, Sam began to wonder if she had a hangover. But she knew that though this was the most normal answer it most certainly wasn't the correct one. Finally, she could open her eyes. The weights were lifted.

Where was she? As she looked around, she started to piece together the illogical surroundings she was in.

Firstly, she realized that she was in a classroom. It wasn't hers, she'd never seen this in her life. It looked like a tornado had made it's way through. But it was a classroom nevertheless.

Next, Sam realized she was surrounded by strangers. Who were they all? And why in such a run down place? The idea came to Sam, then, that perhaps a natural disaster had actually happened. She could have hit her head, maybe lost her memory…?

Lastly, Sam realized that she was on top of someone. As she shook off her tired daze, she got off of the person she had been resting on. She groans, sliding to sit on the floor. Sam hadn't been the only person. When she looked to see whose legs she'd been laying across, she found a chubby boy she didn't know was draped over the same person she had been. And upon further inspection, she found that the poor person who had been crushed beneath the weight of two others was recognizable. It was her best friend, Grace, who was currently glaring.

"It's about damn time," she growled, attempting to shove the boy off of her. It wasn't exactly easy, the boy had at least thirty pounds on her, but she managed to get him a good few inches off. She was making little bits of progress. "Well? HELP ME GET HIM OFF."

Ah, right. Grace hated to be touched. Like, at all. _Especially_ by strangers. Bits and pieces of removal wouldn't suit her.

"Right! Sorry, sorry!" Sam quickly moves over, helping to push the boy off. With the two of them, it was a lot faster. "There," she says when he was rolled off of Grace. "You okay?"

"No, my lungs are crushed," She rubs her abdomen with a frown. "I think he broke a rib."

"God, don't even joke about that." Sam shakes her head and sighs, "Where are we? What's going on?"

"Do I look like I know?" Grace snaps in a whisper, her face still sour-looking. Other people were starting to wake up, so Grace was starting to quiet down. She was going into what they had come to call "the Damien", a reference to the movie The Omen, a favorite movie of theirs. It was a terrifyingly cold and serious scowl aided by deafening silence.

Sam looks around at all the people in different stages of waking up. They seemed to be going through the same series of steps that the girls were. Except for one thing, they were touching their necks, where very simple, metallic necklace were. Touching her own neck led her eyes to widen, and she notices the same one on Grace's neck. "What the hell…?"

Grace moves a hand, copying her motion to touch the necklace. "Cool," she says, "Free chokers."

"This is not cool! We don't know where these are from!" Sam was starting to panic and she clearly wasn't the only one. Some were freaking out because of the menacing-looking people sitting in the back corners of the classroom. One was hunched over, facing a wall, with wild hair. The other had a brightly colored bandana tied around his head, surveying the room. Out of the two of them, both Sam and Grace had the same thought: _The wild-haired one seems way more malicious_.

Sam's reaction to this, as most of the others', was to back up. Grace, however, was a bit backwards in what she should fear versus what actually did scare her. For example, where a dead bug would petrify her, a dead body would only startle her. So instead of backing away, she eyed him closer. She didn't trust this situation.

And then suddenly, there were soldiers in the room, walking with a man in between them.

"What's going on?!"

"Watashi wa kore ga sukide wanai! Watashi wa kore ga sukide wanai!"1

"Où sommes-nous?!"2

"Voglio andare a casa!"3

There was an uproar, to say the least. And the guards' reaction was horrifying. They fired a round at the ceiling, eliciting screams from all the teens in the room.

"Everybody, sit down," called the man, his face grim. Who was that guy? He looked familiar.

"That's the bloody Prime Minister," Grace murmurs quietly to Sam, giving the answer she needed.

Despite his supposed position, nobody listened to him (except for Sam and a few other goody-goodies, that is). He seemed agitated by this, but the guards quickly upped their ante. One walks forward, shooting by the feet of the standing teens, and screams: "EVERYBODY SIT DOWN!"

The teens had no qualms with listening this time. They sit down. All except for one.

"Sit down!" Calls the man again, losing more of his composure.

"No!" Replies the standing person in a thick Italian accent. "Not until you tell us where we are!"

No response, he turns around.

"Tell us where we are!"

No response, he sighs.

"Dove siamo? Dove siamo?!" She shouts, mouth wide, "DOVE SIA-"4

She was cut off by a small knife that flew through the air. It went straight through her open mouth, piercing the back of her throat to greet the people that stand behind her. A small stream of blood flows out from both the back of her neck where the knife stuck and out of her mouth. She fell to the floor like the dead weight she now was. Many screamed, one or two stuck their heads out the windows and got sick (though not all had been able to make it so far).

Sam was one of the screamers, her face stark white and horrified. Grace watched in surprise, at most her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped very slightly. She didn't have as extreme a reaction.

For Grace, dead bodies and dead bugs had switched reactions.

"There's always one," The man sighs, shaking his head. Thereafter, she greets them all warmly, as if the murder he'd just committed hadn't happened. "Good evening, children. I'm Frederick Muntz, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. I'm here to make sure the youth of this world doesn't continue to go to the shit it has been." He pauses, surveying the room. "No questions about this? Well, then, the condition must really be bad if even the cause of it all has noticed. Tsk, tsk, children. You should have done more. Now, you must all be wondering what you're doing here. That's a much more simple answer than the vast and rapidly dwindling state of our collective countries. As you can tell, there are people of many races here. English, like me, American, Japanese, Italian-like that chatty young lady on the floor-Russian, Spanish, Mexican, French...The British, clearly, are hosting. Think of it as the Olympics, children. Except there is no bronze, no silver. Only one gets the gold. But, I can't do this game it's proper justice. To the video, shall we?"

Muntz walks toward the television that was being brought in. He took the remote off the top of the DVD player that lay beneath it on the rolling stand's shelf and turns the television on. He presses play, and moves to sit on the ripped and tattered chair that was behind the desk. As the introductory music plays, he rests his head on his chin as if he were excited to see the movie. He smiles just the same, like a happy child watching their favorite movie for the tenth time.

The video was of a very excited-looking asian woman, but had a horrible dub over it of a very uneasy sounding man. It made for quite the show.

"H-hello, everyone!" The man tried his hardest to sound excited, "Congratulations a-and welcome! You have b-been specially ch-chosen to participate in the first International Battle Royale! Yay…? Each of you c-come from a different educational b-background, b-but are all in the p-poorest scoring areas of y-your home country! Some of you may know each other, as this was taken into c-consideration f-for your b-benefit. You are very lucky!" The woman on the screen was jumping with excitment, happy beyond belief that the students were oh-so blessed as to have their friends take part in this with them. The audio man, however, seemed as though he would burst into tears at any given moment.

Most of the people were watching with horror, picking up on the tone the man had. Others were living in a blissful denial, relying on the asian woman's happy-go-lucky gestures to fuel their positivity. Sam was one of these few. There was, however, three people who did not fall into this category. The two people perched in the corners who had yet to be explained, and Grace. The two mystery guests were stone-cold, bored even. But Grace was having trouble even trying to be like that. She was _laughing_. The oral and visual presentations' mismatched nature tickled her severely. The only thing keeping her somewhat quiet was Sam's hand muffling her. Grace was lucky for this, even if she didn't appreciate it. Because, were Sam not to have done that, Grace would have surely taken beating at the least.

"Now, I'm g-going to explain the r-rules for you. Listen well to… f-fight right and with g-g-gusto! You are on a deserted island that looks like this!" A picture emerged on the screen, showing the teens exactly what they were up against geographically. "It's about t-ten kilometers around, but we evacuated everyone, so it's empty! The island's divided into many zones. Every s-six hours, your teacher will broadcast updates about which zones are becoming… d-danger zones. Listen closely, because y-you have to d-do this for f-five days. L-learn how t-to do this a-and n-never make a mistake, b-because…If you are in these zones, you n-need to leave _quickly,_ asthe danger is…" The english dubbing man whimpered here, whereas the asian woman giggled and hit her forehead as if she was making a silly mistake. "I almost f-forgot! Ok-kay, about the necklaces you are wearing. They are one hundred p-percent waterproof and shockproof... and permanent...?! It m-monitors your p-pulse, informing us of your l-location and m-movements. So if you l-linger in a… d-danger zone, or cause t-trouble, we can identify you and transmit radio waves that trigger an alarm and-oh, God, have mercy on these poor children-I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll continue! Don't shoo-" The audio cut, there, got scratchy. Then, another voice took over, another man, but a completely different person for sure. His voice was calmer, happier. "-BOOM! It explodes! Haha! Isn't that fun? And if you try to rip it off, it explodes too, so promise not to try that, okay?" It was Muntz.

Grace had stopped laughing, now, and was touching the necklace around her neck tentatively, contemplating whether or not that was really smart of them, or sickening. She decided it was somewhere in the middle. Cunning. Well-planned.

 _This may be the first International Battle Royale,_ she thought, _but it is definitely not the first overall._

Grace had admired their intelligence, at the very least, but was severely pissed off that she was being made to participate.

"You will leave the room one by one, but first you get a kit. Inside is food and water, a map and compass, a flashlight and a weapon, so check it out later, okay? The girls might need personal items, so you can all take them. Each weapon is different. Not just guns and knives, either! It's random, so maybe you'll get lucky, maybe not. It eliminates natural advantages. Oooh, this one's super lucky!"

The lights turn on, and Muntz shuts off the television. He steps in front of it, and says, "As some of you may have noticed, we haves guests. They are our volunteers, and are Battle Royale veterans! Be nice to them, children, they have a lot of wisdom into how everything works! You'll learn more about them when the games begin, I'm sure, and will learn your names when called. Speaking of which, this is how that will proceed: I'm going to call out a number, followed by your name. The number matches both the bag you will be given and the necklace that your tracker is. Listen close, children, I don't call out twice! Give me a nice, proud "Here!" or "Present!" when your name is called, the n come up and get your bag and set off. Okay? Great!"

He pulls a slip of paper from his pocket, "Number One: Arita Halecia!"

A small Mexican girl who had previously been whimpering let out a quiet, squeaky "H-here!" as she got up. She walks forward slowly. The guards toss her the bag labeled with a number one on it rather roughly, nearly knocking the poor mousey girl to the ground. Sam's heart ached for her, she feared the poor thing wouldn't last a minute on her own in the real world, let alone here. Maybe she could make friends with her… the best way to beat this would be to stick together as one whole, right? Protest, maybe? If they all got together and refused, or turned on the soldiers, they'd outnumber them right?

"Number Two: Louis Marsh!"

A tall boy stood, calling "I'm 'ere!" He was a fit guy, and one of the older in the crowd. He was probably eighteen or so. His hair was buzzed, but it was very clearly red. He caught his bag with ease, and headed down the hallway with a salute to everyone still waiting. Sam feared him rather suddenly, when it dawned on her that someone as fit as he would probably make it a long time. She was growing nervous, now. She was pretty strong, yes, but she wasn't a runner. She didn't know if she could hold up.

The names eventually became a blur to Sam, though not so much as to Grace. Grace was doing her best to categorize every person by name and face into two separate files in her mind: Threat or Harmless. Sam was simply trying to strategize with her time, plan something out. She'd share a few ideas with Grace, such as the idea to turn right and find the nearest bush, then wait there for the other. It all depended on who got out first now.

Despite Sam only half listening, a few people did catch her sight. The aggressive Spanish boy named Claude who cursed out the soldiers and refused his bag of supplies, the bandana-clad asian guy named Kawada who made a violent fuss over which bag he got, the chubby russian boy who had been draped over Grace earlier named Adrian, and one more. She didn't really take note of him until Grace was called, the seventh-to-last out of the fifty. She gave Sam a knowing look as she says nothing to identify herself. Mostly in spite of Muntz. With her bag thrown at her, she holds it close to her chest, and walks slowly down the hallway. This is why Sam remembered the fourth person. He walked down the hallway the same way that Grace did, clutching the supply bag like it was their teddy bear.

Six more to be called.

Five more.

Four more.

Three.

Two.

Sam was last.

 _49 participants remain._

Chapter 2: Possum and Raccoon

Sam ran out of that hallway as fast as she could, panic thrown across her face. Find Grace. Find Grace. That's what she had to do. Find her friend. She could do that, couldn't she? Couldn't she?

She came out in a world wind, feeling dizzy just standing. She quickly pushes forward, hearing a twig snap somewhere nearby her. She jetted straight forward towards the forest, hoping it'd conceal her enough until she could turn back and meet up with Grace.

 _Wssshhht-CRACK!_

'"What the—?!" Sam skidded to a halt, not even halfway toward the hopefully secluded woods, swinging around. Her eyes widened at the sight behind her. A rotund boy fell forward, landing at her feet. He had a gun in his hand and an axe in the back of his head. Her eyes trail upward, prepared to either meet her killer or her savior.

"You need to be careful!" Grace snapped at her, "He was about to shoot you! Do you know how lucky you are that I saw you? What happened to going to the nearest bush?! Did you forget that already?! You were supposed to turn right, you plonker! I can't believe you! Screw you!"

Sam didn't say anything, taking her berating with such relief. She stared at her friend with shocked awe. But then she was slapped with realization. She looks back down at the bleeding boy at her feet. "…You killed him…"

"So he wouldn't kill you! For Christ's sake, this isn't the time to be morally upheld!" She pulls the axe from the back of his head, where it was just above his ear (with a good amount of issue, though she was building up some skill), pointing at the body with it thereafter. "You think I want to go home with this idiot?! Your murderer?!"

Sam stayed quiet, still looking down. Wasn't that the guy who was passed out over Grace earlier? The one who they had to roll off?His name was…Andy? Adrian? She felt horrible for not remembering, even though he'd just tried to kill her. "…S-sorry."

"Damn right you're sorry! And you know, a thank you would be nice." Grace rests the axe on her shoulder, sighing. "Rules and morals and social obligation don't apply here. Got it?"

"…Got it…"

Sam kneels, and Grace immediately groans, expecting some sort of sappy, unnecessary attempt to give him a proper burial or mourn his loss or somethi else just as tedious. But to her surprise and (somewhat) pride, Sam pulls his backpack from his shoulders and takes the gun from his grip.

Grace raises an eyebrow, to which Sam replies, "…He won't need it…" She looks over the deceased boy with a frown, a tear or two leaking despite trying to head Grace's words. "…Maybe he was nice…He'd probably want us to have it…"

"Come on," Grace says immediately after, Sam's words hitting home just enough to elicit a sigh. "Let's go find someplace to stay. Day one starts soon, and it's gonna be a long one. Maybe if we get deep enough into the woo—" Grave had begun to walk forward, but Sam grabbed her arm in time to stop her and her words.

"Wait," she replies, "I don't want this." Sam slings the new backpack on her shoulder along with her own, trying to ignore the feeling of wet blood on her shoulder from where the boy had bled out. She was putting the gun in Grace's hand. "It's not my style."

"Sam, this isn't a time to be picky." Grace warns, "Did you even look at your weapon is?"

"No. And I won't. You can have whatever it is."

"You really are like a puppy, Jesus. You trust people way too much."

"No, I trust you just enough."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I will, it'll help me sleep at night."

Grace gave a small laugh, but rolls her eyes and continue for the woods. "Let's go. There's probably a cave or something we can inhabit."

"Inhabit? What are we, raccoons?"

"No, _I'm_ a raccoon. You're a possum."

"A possum?"

"Yep."

"Why am I a possum?"

"Because you don't attack, you play dead."

"...That's somehow really accurate."

Off they went, trying to get over the horrors they've witnessed and find a place where they could avoid seeing any more.

The girls did indeed find themselves a run down house, but it was not very comfortable at all. Not that they didn't have a soft place to sleep, they did. It was their uneasiness from the day that set them up to be uncomfortable. They had piled up pillows and their bags. Sam and Grace placed a bunch of furniture against the door and made sure that the windows had something blocking them as much as possible, so that they'd at least hear if anyone was coming in.

After they were settled, they go through their things and sort what they have. Out of the three bags that they owned, they got three loaves of bread, six water bottles, two guns, one axe, grape jelly, butter, a first aid kit, and two blankets. Sam and Grace each took a blanket and wore it tightly. They set their bread with what they wanted, each took a water bottle and had that for dinner. They put the weapons in one bag, the food and water in another. Grace got the weapons bag and Sam got the sustenance bag. Grace really did try to get Sam to take one of the guns, but it was to no avail.

This irritated the hell out of Grace, but she just stayed in frustrated silence.

She hadn't spoken much most of the night, just agree or disagree wordlessly to ideas or conversation. She mostly just stayed in her own mind, chewing tentatively on her piece of bread. Grace didn't eat much, though. She didn't trust the food and didn't want to end up poisoned.

"Grace, come on, please eat something," Sam requests in a quiet whisper, holding up another piece of bread up toward her, "If not the bread, then the jelly? God, I'd even take you eating straight butter. You're worrying me."

"I'm not dying over bread," was the first thing she said in hours. "That'd be a really lame way to die."

"For God's sake!" Sam says, her voice raising.

"Shh!" Grace replies, holding a finger up to her lips. "I'm not dying because you got snippy, either!"

"Eat a piece of bread or I scream," Sam threatened, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"No," She replies stubbornly. "I'll eat more tomorrow. Go to sleep or something. We need to take shifts."

"Bah!" Sam says, throwing her hands up in defeat, laying down as a sign of her giving up. "You're too difficult sometimes."

"You're too easy sometimes," Grace says, then quiets again after a final, "Go to bed. I'll wake you up when I'm tired."

Not another word was spoken between them for a few hours. Grace leans against the wall, far from the windows and doors, watching over their little area. She stayed awake for at least four hours, thinking everything over. What she had to do, revising her threat or harmless list, estimating how long their weapons would last, plotting food rations.

She wondered if there was any fully trustable food sources around here. Maybe a plant or something? No, she could accidentally eat something deadly. Or one of these abandoned houses could have food… Before they left, tomorrow, they could raid the place. Though she was pretty sure that this island would have been used for any other Battle Royales that had gone on, so it was probably out. And that aside, there was always the risk of it being expired.

When Grace found herself dozing, she woke Sam up and they switched. Grace slept as best as she could, which wasn't good at all. Sam yawns occasionally. She'd woken up rather frequently. And when she did sleep, she had nightmares of all that had happened in that short span of time.

And now, Grace was going through the same thing. Though her nightmares weren't something new, nor did it have anything to do with what went on today. Mostly it was just an array of horrifying imagery that kept her from sleeping any better than Sam did. It was a rough night for them both.

And the morning would only bring worse times.

 _48 participants remain._

Chapter 3: Block Out the Blood

Grace and Sam had an uneasily easy awakening. Classical music played over some sort of loudspeakers, bringing Sam to wake Grace as it was her shift. The announcements tallied the deaths of the previous night, which was eight. How had that many people been killed already?

Sam knew of two, yes, but one was at the hands of the people who put them here and the other was in defense. Was everyone else killing in self defense? How had seven people tried attacking others though? Maybe it was a misunderstanding?

As Sam remained on the positive, if illogical, point of view, Grace's perspective was growing sick.  
"Are there maps in the bags?" Grace asks, "they're going to call danger zones."

"Right! Right," Sam went rummaging through the bags. They'd sorted the important things last night—food and weapons—and threw everything else into the third bag. She picks out two of the three rolled maps they had and the markers placed with it. She gives one to Grace, and they start marking as swiftly as they could. Anything they miss, they share with each other.

They try to plot out approximately where they were. They find a general plot of where they think they'd gotten to, and decide it best to start moving. They were very close to a danger zone.

Sam carries the two bags with supplies and Grace takes the weapons. Sam put one of the maps with Grace, however, just in case they got separated. Grace had no objections, though she highly doubted they'd be split apart. Or, more so, she had no intentions of letting that happen.

They set out, Grace in lead with her axe in hand. It was easier to be quiet. As Sam pointed out, guns would attract the crazier people who were looking to kill. Sam had the two volunteers in mind when she brought this up.

An axe was simple, silent, and hopefully wouldn't bring a lot of unwanted attention to them.

They walked and walked for quite some time without opposition. The only real challenge for them was their feet aching. But they made it far from the danger zone with no problem, and Sam was hopeful that this would keep up.

The girls chatted lightly, whispering about old times. They strategized, too, and planned to go back to the area they had been in if it's not a danger zone by nightfall.

Things were…peaceful. And while both girls appreciated this peace, it made them a little paranoid. Something was bound to happen, wasn't it? Someone was sure to come along and try to kill them, right?

Why, yes, girls, yes indeed.

It happened around noon. After trekking since six, they had to stop and adjust their maps again. Two more people had died. Sam's eyebrow knit together as she struggled to find positivity. There had to be a reason. Why would a bunch of harmless teens suddenly become bloodthirsty, suddenly be so ready to kill?  
Grace was rolling her map up, having set her axe aside, when suddenly a hole appears through it and a loud sound rang through her ears.

Someone had shot at her.

Grace looks up immediately, and is faced with a scrawny boy. His glasses were cracked. Grace took this to be the reason he missed. She drops her map and picks up her axe, standing swiftly and charging. The boy tried to shoot, but he had no bullets left. He screams the same time Sam shouts, " _Wait!_ "

But he had an axe in his head before Grace could even think to stop.

Sam was breathing erratically, Grace too. Both had very different reasons for their frazzled state, however. Sam had just witnessed her third violent killing, and Grace had committed her second defensive murder.

Sam stared, not realizing how tightly she was gripping her map. It was wrinkled and a little crushed, now.

Though not nearly as bad as Grace's.

"A-are you okay…?" Sam asks, lifting herself from the ground and approaching her friend. She put a hand on her shoulder. Grace stared at the ground still. "…Grace…?"

"…Fine," she finally answered, "I'm fine, don't worry. Let's grab what's in his bag and go."

Sam nods slowly, understanding that Grace didn't want to talk about what had just happened. Not yet, anyway. Sam grabs why they need. The boy didn't have a map anymore. Maybe that's why he'd attacked them?

"He doesn't have a map, I'm sorry…" she says, "Is yours really badly damaged?"

"No. It's missing a chunk. I think it flitted off somewhere. Doesn't look like anything too important, just water probably."

"Alright…" Sam stuffed what they needed into her bags, tossing them back over her shoulders. "Come on. Let's go." She pulls Grace along. She'd still been staring down at the boy. "It…it wasn't your fault…"

"I know," Grace replies, picking up her weapons bag and starting to follow on her own. "He shot first."

"Don't think on it too much, okay?" Sam offers. She didn't move her eyes off of her friend. Sam was really concerned. Maybe she should take a gun, relieve Grace of the full burden of having to defend?

"I'm not," Grace says, though she took a while to say it. "He tried to kill me. But he sucked at it."

"Grace…"

"He did!" She snaps, "And it's his fault he died! If he didn't try to shoot me—or was at least a little better at it—"

"Stop that! You're acting like you'd be okay if he killed you."

"It'd be a lame death, but I should've been paying attention!"

"You couldn't have known!"

"But I should have!"

Sam was silent, staring down Grace in the same was Grace was to her.

"If you're dying here, you're not dying like that."

"How would you know?"

"'Cause I'm smart and shit."

Grace rolls her eyes, it brought a half-smile on her face. "Mhm. Sure, keep telling yourself that."

"It'll help me sleep, too."

This got Grace to laugh. Good. That's what they needed. Keep things light. Don't think on what's happened. Block out the memories. Don't let it get to you. Don't remember the look on his face, don't remember the way he screamed.

Don't remember the way he bled.

 _40 participants remain._

Chapter 4: Farewell

Day one, for the two girls, was not nearly as horrible as they'd anticipated. Of course, they had met with quite a bit of obstacles as it was... but things could have been a lot gorier. Grace was thankful for that much, thinking this to be a better day then what should have been. Sam, however, was on the opposite end of the spectrum (as usual), thinking the day terrible due to the death that she'd had to witness. The girls were still walking. But things were only building, for them, and somehow they knew this. A gut feeling told them that things were going to turn, soon, but they had no idea how much. It wasn't something so simple as an ominous twig snapping that set them off this time, nor was it the sudden missed shot of another opponent. This time, it was blood curdling screams and the rapid fire of something that Sam immediately linked with any and all war movies she's seen.

"Machine gun," Grace warns, looking around her as she tried to locate the source of the sound. "Let's get moving…"

"Right," Sam agrees, "That's a good pla-"

The sound was drawing closer and rapidly so. There were shots heard from guns other than the massacring one, but they seemed to have little more effect than momentarily halting the hellfire of bullets raining down upon shrieking person after person. Sam instantly thought this person was the one who had killed eight people in one night, and Grace wasn't too far off in her thought processes.

Grace advises, "Run. Now."

And she took off, Sam following as quickly as she could. She managed to keep Grace in sight the whole time, which was lucky considering Grace was a lot quicker on her feet due to the lighter load she carried. They were making good time, though, gaining ground faster than the machine gun toting lunatic could. They took relief in hearing the sound start to fade behind them, but didn't stop running until they were forced to.

Well, until one was forced to.

Sam smacked right into someone who had come running away from a direction just to the side of where they were coming from. She was knocked onto her backside, and Grace immediately stopped when she heard the sound of impact. Both their hearts dropped when they fearfully saw who it was that Sam had collided with. A brightly colored bandana marked him. Kawada. He was staring down at Sam, weapon in-hand. He had something of a scythe hung on his belt, and a gun at the read in his hand. It was pointed at her as he huffs, expecting a fight, but only meeting the deer-in-headlights look of a scared Sam. In the face of death, she was speechless.

"Sam!" Grace calls, gripping her axe tightly as she ran to help her friend, to defend her, help her up. But to her surprise, Kawada was doing just that already. He dropped his defensive guard, and offers his hand to help her up. Expecting violence, Sam cringes, but is quick to realize he was trying to be helpful. She blinks at his hand as if it were something new and unusual, a commodity she had never been met with before. Tentatively, she takes his hand and is brought to her feet. Sam says nothing, at first, just staring at him in awe. _People can still be kind!_ She thought to herself, _I knew not everyone would go bad!_ Grace, however, was not so easily convinced.

"Don't go that way," he warns Sam in a stern voice, letting her hand go. "It's not safe."

"W-what?" Sam asks, eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Why not? What's there?"

"Just trust me," He replies, "It's dangerous."

"Like hell we'll trust you!" Grace pipes up. Part of it was because she didn't like being told what to do, which wasn't the best reason, but the other part, the main part, was because he was a _volunteer_ in this horrible game. That meant to things to her: One, he'd played and won before and two, because of that he was a threat.

"Grace," Sam pipes up, "Maybe we should—"

"No!" Grace says. Where she saw him as a threat because of his experience, Sam saw him as a possible asset, and Grace could tell that immediately. "No way, nuh-uh, not gonna happen. Let's go."

Grace made her way forward, pulling Sam's arm and trying to direct her toward her original pathway. Kawada immediately interfered, taking her other arm with a: "Hold on a second, now."

Grace turned with such a deadly look that Sam was surprised it wasn't counted as her weapon in the beginning of the game, " _Pardon?_ "

"I said hold on," Kawada reiterates, "I said it was dangerous."

"And I say, screw you, we don't trust you."

Sam looks back and forth like a child watching their parents fight. She tried to pipe up, opening her mouth to speak, but was immediately interrupted by more bickering.

"Who are you to talk for her?" He narrows his eyes, challenging.

"Her best friend, and who are you?"

"A winner. I know what this game has in store. Don't be stupid."

"Stupid? Are you looking to get your head cut off?"

"Better killed by you than by my own idiocy, which is what you're heading off to do, if you go that way."

"Now listen here you piece of sh—"

"Okay, okay, that's enough, you're both pretty." Sam interrupts finally, "But that rapid-firing is getting closer again, and I don't want to be here to meet whoever's behind it. So, thank you for your concerns, but I'll be taking my arms back and heading that way." Sam points into the directly opposite direction of the impending threat, which just so happened to be the same direction she and Grace had originally been heading. Kawada sighs deeply when she pulls her hand away, whereas Grace smiles, prideful.

"Ha!" She gloats as Sam chooses her. Mouthing an apology to Kawada, Sam picks up her things and moves to Grace's side. With a final sharp glare at his direction, Grace leaves Kawada in the dust as she takes off, Sam following behind like a puppy on a leash. Kawada's lip curls and he continues away from the direction.

The woods were starting to lose their thickness as the run. When the trees shift to plants and the dirt becomes sand, the girls allow themselves to stop running and instead walk. They catch their breath, walking slowly along. Grace pulled out her map, trying to find where they were. She guessed that they were on the northern tip of the island. She asks Sam to pull out a compass to validate that. If it pointed to the water as north, she was accurate. Sam stops, placing her bag down so she could sort through it, but Grace continued her slow pace onward.

"It says we're facing south," Sam says, pulling out her own map to check exactly what this meant for them.

"Hey, grab me a water bottle while you're at it?" She requests, not hearing her friend, more focused on her dry throat. Giving a small cough, she thinks to herself, _I have to suffer through four more days of this? And for what, a few bad grades in my town? Idiotic._ The sand was getting harder beneath her feet, steadier, easier to walk on.

"Uh, Grace?" Sam calls a little louder, a worried tone to her voice which only increased. "Grace!"

"What?" Grace asked, stopping finally and hearing a _click._ Her eyes widen. No. No. No, no, no, no!

Sam met her eyes, terrified. A simple word leaving her lips that Grace was desperately hoping not to hear. "Landmines…"

Grace looks down. And sure enough, she recognized it. These sorts of things had always interested her. Weaponry, strategies, explosives. She never once thought it would be her downfall, though. She figured, if anything, it would be an asset. Sam stood, looking at the ground in horror. "It…it was marked on the…the southern…How did you not see…?"

Grace looks her map, not moving, not even breathing harshly. She needed to minimize her motions, if these were the times of mines she expected a wrong movement could end her killing herself, and Sam just a few feet away. As she inspected her map, she realized. "…God damn it all…" The hole left from the misfired bullet was blown the warning words away. Even if the kid hadn't killed her himself, he still killed her. "You've got to be kidding…"

"G-Grace…" Sam says, taking a step forward. Grace crushed her map up, pissed off that she had to die so soon, die this way, so lamely. She was worth a much better death than a weight-activated land mine! She didn't deserve this! She deserved an inferno of glory, going out with a bang, taking her enemies with her and maybe even saving someone important in the process. A cool death, an awesome death, not being killed by her own idiocy—and this is what pissed her off all more. Kawada was right. She pulls at her hair in frustration, glaring at the ground and letting out something of a growl. This was it. This was how she died.

"Go," Grace orders, looking up at Sam, who was staring at her stubbornly. Before she could protest, Grace interrupted. "I said go! This thing could be timed! Leave!"

"Gra—"

" _Go, goddammit!_ These things could be timed!"

"No!" Sam shouts, "There's got to be something! Got to be another—"

"I am going to _die_ , Sam. Gone, ka-boom, dust, never to be seen or heard from again," She spoke slowly, having trouble accepting these words for herself, let alone try to make someone else do so. "You don't have to. So unless you're brain dead, or want to be, get out of here!"

"…fine," She replies, wiping her eyes. She'd started crying a while ago, the second she realized what would happen.

Grace removed the weapons bag from her shoulder, "You're taking these."

"No."

"There's no time to argue!"

"I'll take one thing. One." Sam holds out her hand. "Toss me one of the guns. Keep the rest. You're going to need to defend yourself until I can come back for you with—" She didn't know how to end that sentence, because there wasn't anything she could think of to save her friend. There wasn't anything, thinkable or otherwise, that could save her friend here. "—something."

"Sure," Grace says, "Sure, fine." There was no arguing. Sam would remain positive to the end of days, and was almost as stubborn as she was. "I'll keep the axe. It's my favorite, anyway."

"You've always wanted one," Sam reminisces as Grace puts the safety on and tosses her the gun, "Too bad this is how you'd get it."

"You had plenty of Christmases and birthdays to work on getting me one," She teased in a bittersweet manner. Sam caught the gun, backing up slowly.

"I'm sure customs would love that," she replies, sniffling as she tries to convince herself that she would see Grace again. She wouldn't die. This was not the end of the big misadventure that was their odd friendship.

"Farewell," Grace says, axe gripped firmly in her hands.

"I'll see you soon," She promises.

Grace nods, letting her live in denial. She watched as Sam took off, head down the whole way. She headed back into the forest, and Grace hoped she'd go anyway but where they had been, that she wouldn't die too, that she'd get tough enough to survive this bullshit game…the way she couldn't.

As Sam disappeared into the trees, a few tears slipped from her eyes.

 _35 participants remain._

Chapter 5: Solitary Confinement

Grace stood in wait, she'd controlled herself. She didn't know exactly what she was waiting for, though. Death? Salvation? A big boom, flash of white, and a heavenly choir? She had come to find that the mines were in fact not timed. She'd doomed herself to lonesome, anticipating hours. It was her end, that she was waiting for. An end to this whole situation, whether that be in death or in being saved. She just wanted it done and over with. _But of course it won't be,_ she thought to herself, _Of course I'd be stuck here, waiting. Just my luck._

She knew she'd have been there for at least two, because the six o'clock announcements began. And boy were they the salt on her wounds. Muntz cheerily talked about how the southern shore of the island was now a permanent danger zone, and that anyone who went would be met with a delightful surprise. Grace had lost her sadness hours ago. She was pissed, now.

 _If I have to go, I'm taking someone with me._

She stood with arms crossed like a statue, a marker for where the danger zone began. A few people appeared out of the forest, saw her, and immediately turned back around. That angered her all the more. _What, no help?_ She growled in her mind, though she knew it was a bit hypocritical. Were she to catch the situation, be on the other end of it, she'd walk away too.

It wasn't until sunset that anyone walked further toward her. But she was in no way pleased to see who it was. It was the other veteran guy, the one with the unruly hair and wolfish smile. She was faced with that exact smile right now. He had a machine gun in his hand and that toothy smile across his face. He was an arm's length from her, now, but didn't hold up his gun. He just examined her, looking down and easily understanding the situation at hand. _What, this guy, the murdering psycho who was killing people left and right, is gonna save me?_

She decided to examine him back, looking him up and down and giving a "Tch" when finished. He was a rather handsome guy, and clearly skilled at what he was doing, but he enjoyed it way too much. Kiriyama and Grace could have been an unstoppable team, were their goals more similar. He saw this as a game, a challenge, a fun bloodbath the whole family could enjoy. But Grace saw it as a nuisance, a pest, and her unworthy end.

Kiriyama did something, then, that utterly enraged her. He didn't shoot her, didn't put her out of her misery. He walked away. He was going to leave her there, let her suffer and wait. He took one taunting step back, just to see her reaction when she realized.

"You bastard…" She mumbled under breath. He took another step backward. And she got incensed. It showed plainly on her face, and doubled when he took another step. _If I'm going to hell, I'm taking you with me._ Grace was quick, having had enough, and lunges off of the land mine, tackling him to the ground, his gun and her axe thrown out of their respective hands. She expected a boom, expected pain, but there was nothing. Just her laying on top of a sociopath, as he stared in surprise. _You have_ got _to be kidding me. It's a dud._

Kiriyama was no slouch, though, and gives her no time to revel in her luck or register the unnecessary, torturous wait she went through. He pushes her off immediately and makes a dash for his weapon. Grace did the same, pulling herself to her feet. She made it to her weapon first, but doesn't stand around to duke it out no matter how spitefully she wanted to chop off a limb of his. She runs at top speed in the direction she'd seen Sam go, hearing shots fired wildly at her. They shot sand in the air, mostly being aimed at her feet, but she was concealed by the close woods before he could attempt much damage. She kept running, not looking to see if he was following, not counting her luck, and hardly even breathing.

She was deep in the woods by the time decided it was okay to stop. She was far, far away, in an area she didn't recognize. She'd crinkled her map earlier, left it behind, along with the bag she had. She was left with only her axe, now, no food or water or direction to help her. And she was alone.

That terrified her the most.

She was utterly distraught, unable to think or process much. She was frazzled, felt hopeless. Being alone was both good and bad for her. Good because she could move faster, act freely, and had no one to worry over; Bad because she had no one to make sure she ate, no one to take shifts of sleep with her, and no one to keep her from breaking down.

Grace didn't move, nor even attempt to move, just stood in place and panted with her axe held tightly. As if she was back on the landmine, she hardly tried to breathe as if it would do something. She heard a noise, though, and quickly thereafter the tip of a knife touched the middle of her back. She didn't move, even still.

"¿Dónde están tus cosas?" A clearly Spanish boy asked her, following up in English, "Where are your things? Give them to me." His voice got harsher, more aggressive. Why didn't he have his own bags? "Rápidamente! Vamanos!"

Even though he was just mugging her, didn't necessarily want to kill her, Grace turned suddenly and slashed. The surprise of her moving so suddenly would have made him shriek. He had no time to push his knife forward into her back, she'd moved with so fast and sudden. And he had no chance of doing this again, for she'd cut into his arm, making him drop the weapon as he cried out in pain. She was breathing heavily, motions returned to her. She was alive again, scared and alone, but not a statue anymore.

Her hit hadn't gone all the way through his arm, just about halfway, but she was sprayed with blood. The Spanish boy held his arm as he cursed at Grace. She didn't stick around, grabbing one of the bags he had and his knife, taking off. He was clearly not a newbie at mugging people nor at killing. His knife had blood both fresh and dried blood on it (though the fresh could have been his own) and he had at least three bags with him. He must've been stocking up. She was almost grateful for that asshole, because now she had a better chance of surviving. But there were still things that needed to be done before she could rejoice. She needed shelter, needed to eat, sleep, and find Sam.

If she was still alive, that is.

 _32 participants remain._

Chapter 6: The Survival Pact

When Sam got far enough, out of earshot of the machine gun, she sat down. Her heart was pounding mercilessly and she was a sniveling mess. She stumbled toward a few rocks not that far from where she was, and sat down hard. She dropped her gun without a second thought, let her bags slide off of her shoulders, and put her head in her hands. She just sobbed. She tried to be quiet, she didn't want to die, but she wasn't half as successful at is as she needed to be.

She was broken down. She made it to sunset, made it through the first day, yet all she thought after all this was: _But, God, at what cost?_ But she hardly had any time to mourn the traumatic loss of her best friend. Such was the nature of this game. Brutality, loneliness, pain, and threat after threat to one's life.

"Anata no buki wa nanidesu ka?" Asked a voice suddenly, guiding her to look upward. It was Kawada, the bandana-clad volunteer, pointing a gun at her forehead. Kill-shot. Sam's eyes went from sad to addled, though kept the red remnants of her tears. She tilts her head much like a confused puppy, which prompts him to repeat, "What is your weapon? That?" His eyes move to the gun on the ground. Sam just nods. If she died here, she died. She wasn't sure how far she'd make it without Grace's help, anyway.

But even still, she had the instinct to protect herself, she shifts back and forth, trying to plan out a way to grab her gun without being shot by his. Too late, he was picking it up, gun still pointed at her and ready. Sam just put her head back in her hands. But the shadow he cast over her didn't disappear. It moved though. When she looked up to see why SAM found that he'd put his gun down.

"What's wrong with you?" He asks a bit bluntly, though with consideration. "You okay?"

"Why do you care?" She asks, wiping her eyes off. Just the question, just having to remember, to think, to imagine...it brought tears back to her eyes.

"Just do," he replies, moving into a crouch and raising an eyebrow. Sam immediately backs up, crawling higher up on the rocks. Kawada huffs, tempted to roll his eyes. But her expression caught something in him, and it didn't take him long to figure out what happened. "You found the mines, didn't you?"

Sam bit her lip, trying to prevent herself from crying at the mention of it. She nods, and despite the conditioning she tried to place on herself, she started to cry again. "She die-... she didn't ma-...she got stuck." Got stuck. That was good. People could survive getting stuck. She could survive.

"I warned you," He said, bringing Sam's face back up with a look of disgust.

"And why should we have trusted you? I don't know you, she didn't know you, why on earth would we have trusted _you_?" She said, slowly getting louder, more upset.

"I've got experience," he spoke calmly, not getting worked up at all in response to Sam's outburst.

"I'll need more than that," She replies. "You've got experience. I've got supplies. By the tatters your bag is in, you could use me."

"I could kill you."

Sam took a chance, here, and says, "You...You would have, already. I don't think you're here to kill anyone. You don't… you're not crazy like what's-his-face is."

Kawada was silent.

"Look, I can't survive on my own. I'm not stupid. I know that. But I am useful. I've got a bunch of water and food and, sure, you could kill me and just take it, but it's a lot to carry plus a weapon, it'll slow down your agility, and overall keeping me around is a lot more useful than just shooting me and carrying on by yourself."

She wasn't half bad at high-risk persuasion. Kawada sure did take his sweet time answering, though. He had a lot to think over. Would she drag him down, or prop him up? Was she trustworthy? She sounded genuine, but that didn't make her truthful. Where were her true loyalties?

Kawada stuck his hand out, and Sam flinched away, but what he said brought her out of this: "Alright, fine. But you have to listen to what I say. Deal?"

Sam looks up at him, then down at his hand. She takes his hand and shakes firmly, like a businesswoman. Hopefully, he'd serve to be a good partner in this, and not just a rash rebound.

"Deal."

They found shelter for that evening, despite Sam's protests to go and check the landmines immediately. According to Kawada, that firing maniac was headed that way earlier. Kiriyama, as she was told was his name, was "not someone you want to meet. Ever. Just hope he dies before the end of the game and that's it." Sam wasn't very fond of that idea, of waiting and hoping for someone's demise, but she had made a deal. She listens and aids, he protects. She had to wait until Day Two began before she could do anything. _So ruled King Kawada._

Like she had with Grace, Sam and Kiriyama took shifts. They had issue deciding who should sleep first. Their setting was highly desirable, had running water, a bed that wasn't eaten through or too dirty… both were desperate to sleep, but neither really trusted the other yet. It was a stalemate of stubbornness, currently, but as Sam began to doze and Kawada stayed woken the winner was clear.

Her dreams were not nearly as desirable as the bed she shared. She was overwhelmed with dreams of Grace's implosion, horrific images of all the people she'd seen die, and Grace being torn from her to join them just as gruesomely. How Sam woke offered no relief, either. It wasn't the midnight announcements, no.

It was a big, loud explosion.

Gasping as she woke up, the blankets slid from her upper body. "What was that? Kawada? Kawada!" Her eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkness, and she couldn't tell whether or not he still sat at the edge of the bed.

"What?" He asks finally.

"What was that noise?"

Kawada shrugs his shoulders, "Didn't hear."

"Are you kidding?" She asked, sitting up, "Do you think I'm stupid? You're on guard and 'didn't hear' something like that?"

He sighs, still not giving her an answer.

"Hey!" Sam kicks his leg, and his head whipped around like it was snapped. This startled Sam, but she continued anyway. "Don't ignore me! If we're working together, that shit won't fly. What was that noise?

He turns his head back to looking forward, adjusting the weapon held in his lap. "Landmines."

Sam's heart hit the floor and shattered. That idea had been forcing it's way forward from the back of her mind. And now, with his validation, it took over everything. Every thought, emotion, movement. She could only fear for Grace, only hurt at the growingly possible loss, only cover her hold her head to try and quiet the screaming in her head.

She was quiet, though. This sick game had already conditioned her. No matter the problem, no matter the pain, one was not to make an unnecessary noise.

"I'm sorry," he says, moving to where she was huddled in sorrow. But her reply was not something he expected. In fact, the opposite.

"It could've been someone else," she insists. _How is she this positive?_ Was his initial thought, followed up by _She must be in complete denial._ "You should sleep. I'll take my shift now."

"...Fine." He was pretty tired himself, so why would he object? She didn't seem capable of killing and besides, he could take her down with ease. Though she didn't seem to be a threat to him, Sam was quickly becoming a constant source of surprise.

"Sleep well," she wished after they'd switched positions. She'd taken his gun, however reluctantly, and was now seated at the edge of the bed. He rolled over without a word in reply, though he thought of one. Many, actually. He hadn't an idea what to say to her, and it's not as if she spoke Japanese, so that only added to the communication struggle. It wasn't the easiest language, English, and he couldn't always get things to translate.

As Kawada thought over this and tried to sleep, Sam set up her goals. She'd have to wait for the morning announcements to find out if Grace was really dead. She had missed the midnight ones. She'd take down the danger zones, pull Kawada out of bed, and start searching. Maybe they could make this a base? Find a way to tell Grace to come there? But how could they do that without informing anyone else? She stayed up all through the night, thinking, planning, letting Kawada sleep. Then, the announcements start. She listened intently. One, two, three, four… four people.

None of them Grace.

 _27 participants remain._

Chapter 7: Tête-à-Tête

"Yes!" Sam stood up, her outburst waking up the sleeping man beside her. "Thank the Lo-" His hand was clasped over her mouth before she could finish her cheer.

"Shh!" He warns, almost growling at her. He released her mouth only after she swore to keep it down.

"Someone's not a morning person…" She muttered under her breath, very quick to place the gun back in his possession. She was gathering her things swiftly, ready to go as soon as she could.

"What are you doing?" Kawada asked as she busied about.

"She's alive," she stated easily, as if she were talking about grocery shopping. She wasn't unsure, wasn't asking, she spoke of it as fact. "And _we_ are going to find her."

Kawada and Sam bickered over this for a short while; Sam was packing things up, making them both a quick breakfast with what she had at the ready, and continuing to fight for the right to go back to the danger-zone. Eventually, and through more deal making, he agreed. If he checked with her, she'd allow him have full say over the rest of the day. In her mind, it was an easy thing to give up, especially after the results benefited her.

They managed to get to the southern part of the island quickly despite Kawada's insistence otherwise. When they got closer to the cliff that overlooked the sandy beach where the mines were, Sam felt the anticipation build. She didn't want to run, in case there were landmines up there, too. Kawada was checking for the signs, and she'd point out anything that seemed mildly abnormal. It was a slow and painful process to get from the safe-zone's very end. As they looked over the edge, the slowly rising sun lit up the vast area of explosives and inconsistent, scattered deceased. The sight brought a backward reaction: Sam was relieved. There was no sign of Grace. Not a body, not a standing figure, not a splatter of insides near where she had been.

In her excitement, her moment of solace, Sam whispered a "Thank God" and caught Kawada off-guard with a hug. He nearly shot her, being his first instinct was to expect an attack, but he was quick enough to stop himself. Sam didn't even notice. He could have shot her, left her, and carried without her suspecting a thing. Kawada realized this, knew he could, but decided to pat her back with his non-weaponized hand instead.

 _She's so oblivious_ , he commented internally, _And stupidly trusting. She won't survive this way. Not without someone. She's far too honest. She reminds me of..._ It took him a while to find the word. It was hard for him to say, even in his own head. But by the time she pulled away, avowing her embarrassment and apologizing for being so abrupt, he found it, _Keiko._

"Kawada?" She asked, tugging on his shirt like a child to gain his attention, "Can we?"

"Nani?" He wasn't paying attention, not even when he replied, and had to add, "I mean, what?"

"I said can we look for her?" She reiterates what she had apparently asked while he was lost in thought. "She's not there, and the area by her is all clear… can we look for her?" She had such a true hope in her eye, it made him sigh.

"Sure, fine, whatever." He pulls his gun up in his hands, at the ready. "We'll head through the forest, if she was on the edge of the mines she wouldn't have gone through the others to get to the opposite side." As he spoke, he gestured over the land to point it out to her, eliciting nods and occasional noises of understanding. After he'd decided their path, he lead the way, Sam following behind like a puppy.

The walk was rather self explanatory; Down towards the woods, weaving between the trees. Their conversations were little, at first. They'd stop to eat, once to take down danger zones. Two more people were dead, none Grace. Sam began to wonder if Grace was doing any of the killing, if people were attacking her, or if… _No,_ she scolded herself, _I don't think...Would she?_ She tried to get her mind off of that as soon as possible, looking to her partner for that aid.

"Kawada?" She spoke as unsurely as she felt. This was a business relationship, as far as she was concerned for right now, was casual conversation allowed?

"Mhm?" He replied as he continued his half-hearted search. Maybe he could cut some places? He didn't really want to search the whole forest for some stubborn girl who didn't strike him as trustworthy.

"Are we allowed to, like, chit-chat and stuff?" Sam tilts her head at him involuntarily as she asks, surprised to hear him give approval.

"Sure," he answered, hoping conversation could keep her distracted enough to think they were covering more ground. He didn't really want this Grace person around. Having one person was fine, if he had to, but more than that? No. Two's a party, three's a crowd. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I dunno," She said, kicking a rock by her feet. Somehow, somehow, she could still act this way. Light-hearted, curious. Perhaps the guarding she'd had, the luxury of not having to kill, was even slightly saving her from the grime this place could force in people.

"Well if you don't know, we can't 'chit-chat', right?" He remarked, making a turn away from the edge of the woods.

"Hey, I thought you said we'd go around the perimeter first? Have we? It doesn't look like where we came from.

 _Ah, shit._ He sighed audibly with his thoughts, _She noticed._ He goes on to say, "I have authority on where we go, remember? I don't think she'd be on the outskirts of the forest."

"Well, you can't exactly make that assumption," Sam says, almost reprimanding.

"Sumimasen?"

"Well, you don't know her. You don't know what she would do or how she would think…"

"I know what people in here are like."

"Grace isn't most people."

"In this, no one is most people. No one is themselves. Everyone thinks alike. Even she would."

"...Is that how you won?"

Kawada didn't respond for quite some time. Even when he did, it wasn't in answer to what she asked. "Let's just go."

With a sigh, honoring their deal, Sam traveled on.

 _25 participants remain._

Chapter 8: Worlds Collide

It was the late Day Two, Grace was still alone. She was glad to hear Sam wasn't dead, of course, and hoping Sam felt the same for her. She was not, however, able to find her. And in the mean time, until she found her friend, she had other plans. Those who attacked her, threatened her, or even crossed her would go down. She was in it to win it. How many people had that been so far? Only two. One, in self-defense. Two, brandishing a knife. She'd claimed both of those people's weapons. A gun and the knife.

Grace was making her way back towards a landmark she'd pointed out to Sam earlier, a place she'd designated as a meet up. She got to it just before six. Two things led to that being a failure, however. One, Sam was not there.

 _She forgot, didn't she? God, of course she would. She'd forget her bloody head if it wasn't stuck to her neck._

Still, Grace waited. She paces back and forth as she waits. The evening announcements commence. She wonders which of the dead was hers, and who was killing the others. She immediately suspected that guy from earlier, the one who'd tried to desert her on a landmine.

 _What was his name again? Keirwama? Kiriyama? Something like that. I want his gun. His hair was pretty cool, too, though. It looked sort of s- what the hell am I thinking?_

She hadn't eaten since Sam and her had last had a meal together. So, that meant a day and a half. She didn't feel too terrible, but of course her thoughts begged to differ. She was thinking of a guy who'd tried to kill her. Grace returns her attention to the announcements.

Two, this area, as her new map told her, was now a danger zone. She burst into a run.

 _Goddammit!_ She shouted in her thoughts. She took off. Or had she said that out loud? God, she was out of it. She had to eat something, but she didn't trust any of the food that she had. She'd gotten rid of most of it a while ago, but she didn't trust anything around her either.

 _Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._ Her necklace was warning her. Her mind was constantly trialing in different directions, not letting her focus. At least her body was cooperating. She was still running. Hopefully she could outrun her timing necklace. A little faster, a little farther, a little longer. _Beep beep beep beep._ The space between the beeps was lessening, she may have to start dropping things to increase her speed if she didn't get close enough to the edge.

 _Beepbeepbeepbeep_ _—_ She made it. Grace was okay. For now. For now, yes, she had to keep going. There was more she had to do still. She gave herself a moment or two to breathe, then kept going. She was pushing herself really hard and knew Sam would have yelled at her for it, but she pressed on anyway. Things changed when Sam wasn't around. And they wouldn't go back until her friend was found and partnered with her again. Grace stopped, looking over her map and glancing over the places she recalled as danger zones. She marked them, sorted through her things and switched her axe for her gun. Running with that thing had depleted a lot of her energy. She needed a weapon that was easy to work with and not as heavy.

Grace took on a slower pace when she walked on. She had to figure out where she was going, now. It was dark, so maybe some place she could sleep? She hadn't slept the night before, and likely wouldn't allow herself that privilege today either. Who would watch her back? She didn't want to make partnerships with anyone else here, she didn't trust any of them. And who could blame her, when the past interactions she had were all threats to her existence?

As she walked, she heard very small noises behind her, to the side of her. Wind, yes? Had to be. Of course. Unless… Was she being followed? _No. You're just tired and hungry and paranoid. Just shut up and keep walking._ She quickened her pace anyway.

She found herself a place to settle, a little shack of a place. It was old and the roof looked like it'd half caved in. Grace was laying down, gun in hand, axe at her side. She was waiting for something. What it was, she had no idea. Sleep, maybe? That could be it. She looks around with tired eyes, glancing out the window from a safe distance.

She wouldn't be noticed inside, in the dark, but she could see others. When a flash went passed her, she shook off her daze as best as she could. Grace got up quickly, heading out the door in a quiet beeline. As she slowed when she got out the door, and made her way out with tentative, slow movements. She listens attentively, waiting. She shot from where she saw the tiniest bit of a human form.

"Hallo du!" Called a voice, followed by the appearance of a more solidified silhouette. Grace couldn't tell whether or not there was aggression yet. Not understanding the language didn't help. She didn't reply, just held her gun up and ready. "Don't schießen at me again, you arschloch!"

There it was, the aggression. The threat It was too dark for Grace to wait for them to get closer. Fearing the worst, she shot again at the outline of the person. "SCHEISSE!"

The form fell, and Grace went back inside for her things. He could have a partner, someone could have heard the gunshots, or even his cursing. She packed everything up as rapidly as she could left. It took Grace a really long time to get away. Her eyes were blurry with desire for sleep, and her muscles were tired. She kept moving, though, as fast as her tired legs would carry her. She wasn't in good condition. She thought she was starting to hallucinate, Grace could have sworn that she heard something.

A familiar something.

Tiredly, she made her way toward the sound. There was a tiny little house, just in front of a small creek. Grace walked through the stream in pursuit of the sound, the water only reaching just below her knee. She didn't seem to care, if anything it woke her up a little. It was ice cold, which was to be expected considering the time of year. She walked up to the tiny home, cautiously peering into the window. There was a tiny light on. A candle, it seemed. It illuminated the inside enough to see, but didn't draw attention. Someone inside was smart. She looks around as best she could while keeping herself unseen. It wasn't very late, she wasn't surprised to see people still awake. The figures were facing away from her. Grace pulled herself up, gun following as she took aim. She stepped back so that she wouldn't be hit with the glass as it shattered. Then, one of them turned around, grabbing the bag that lay behind them.

 _Sam…?_

She was sitting beside someone Grace didn't know, but instantly recognized. He had a bandana across his forehead, and was talking casually with Sam. He even got her to smile. They both sat on a cot-like bed, eating from some lightly cracked bowls. Grace was livid. _Did she even search for me?! Did she even care to?! I swear to God—_

Grace was almost tempted to shoot. Not at Sam, but that other guy… Maybe just a warning shot… He'd live, probably. Grace knocked aggressively on the window with side of her gun. She didn't care how unsafe it was, if her gun went off and shot through the window, tough shit. Their heads turn. Kawada had the first response, grabbing his M31 sawed-off shotgun, aiming at Grace. His finger was on the trigger, and he'd have shot at her were it not for Sam. She'd grabbed his arm, said something to him. His attention was diverted long enough for Grace to knock on the window with more impatience than before. Sam reacted this time, making her way over and opening the window. She had tears in her eyes and a great big smile. God, she was pissing Grace off right now.

"Hi, Grace," Sam spoke quietly, "God, it's so good to see you, I missed you so mu—"

"Cut the crap and let me in," Grace replied, startling Sam. Grace didn't seem too good to Sam, and so she didn't object at all.

"R-right...right…" She replies, heading toward the door. Grace followed through the outside, and Sam pushed away the blockings that they had put in front of the door. Kawada did not help until asked. When she was in, Sam flocked to her side immediately while Kawada was left to resupply the doorway with blockage.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks, "How did you survive? Have you eaten? We have food, if you'd like some. Kawada made rice. You look tired, have you slept? Do you want to sit down?" Grace didn't say a thing, grumbling and pushing passed Sam to sit on the bed. She waited for an explanation. Sam brings her some food and continues her questioning, not realizing what Grace was waiting for. "How long were you on there? We were there earlier today, we didn't see you. Did you get away yesterday or earlier this morning? What's happened since? How've you been holding up? You're…" Sam looks her over. Her sour expression had softened a little. Grace thought to herself, _Okay. She looked for me. But what did she wait until today? I was there for hours after she left yesterday!_ "You're covered in blood…"

Grace glances down at herself, then back up at Sam, who was still trying to get Grace to take the bowl of rice. Kawada inserted himself in the vicinity when blood was mentioned. Grace glowered at him, eyes narrowed. She didn't like him, blamed him for Sam's absence. "It's...it's alright. Maybe we can find you something around here to change into…?" Grace had started shaking her head. "No? Well, okay, that's okay. You eat. Kawada's a pretty good cook, thankfully. It's nice to eat something other than bread and jelly, that's for sure. Aha… ha...ha?"

Sam was trying to be light, but Kawada and Grace were currently having a stare down, each with their own equally intimidating scowl. Grace's, Sam decided, was the better of the two.

"So," He finally said, "The famous Grace."

Grace's glare shot to Sam, _She told him my name?!_ Sam cringed at the redirection of the look, mouthing a "sorry" for whatever exactly it was that she'd done.

"Do you talk?" Kawada asks, raising an eyebrow slowly. Grace's glare was brought right back to him. It was a stalemate of angry, suspicious eyes. Sam could easily tell they didn't like each other.

"How about we let Grace eat?" Sam suggests, looking to Kawada with a small, trying smile. _Please don't hate each other, please don't hate each other. Please, please, please get along._

"Fain. Dare ga kanojo wa chi de ōwa rete iru koto ga ki ni?" He grumbles rather sarcastically as he makes his way over to the bags, holding his gun close and ready should any… _reason_ arise. "Watashitachiha imasu ka? Īe. Dōyara, watashitachiha shi no ganbō o motte iru."

Sam sighs, taking the fact that he walked away as him being accepting. In the process she chose to ignore that he was mumbling sardonically. Sam sits beside her and taps the edge of the bowl. "Eat, okay? It'll get cold. It's not poisoned or anything, I ate the same stuff about five minutes ago and _I_ was the one who put yours together for you. So no protests. Only eating." Grace grouses but doesn't object much. She was starving, after all. With Sam's guidance, she brings a small bite to her lips. Soon after, she was eating consistently. She wasn't choking up blood, wasn't dying. Those were good signs that she wasn't poisoned.

Kawada stared, still, eyeing Sam and Grace back and forth. _What does this mean for our partnership?_ He wondered, _I don't like this girl. And she clearly doesn't like me. If we can't get along, Sam's more likely to choose her, which means I'll be either left behind, or killed in my sleep. Fucking great._

Sam was rifling through her bag now, and pulls free her blanket. She drapes it over Grace's shoulders. She asks, "Did you get any supplies? Have you been okay?" Grace nods, jerking her thumb at the bag on her back. "Do you still have your axe? You came in with a gun." With another nod, she spoons more rice into her mouth. Grae thought to herself, begrudgingly, _At least his food isn't as horrible as the rest of him._

"Have you slept? You've got terrible bags under your eyes." She looks to Kawada, "Let's give Grace one of the first sleeping shifts tonight, okay?" She says, "You can sleep, too, if you want."

 _She knows we don't trust each other._ Kawada thought, shrugging in response. "Sure, whatever." _But that we both trust her. Smart move._ "But you can't stay up all night again."

"It wasn't all night, just...most of." Kawada narrows his eyes at her, then repeats himself. This prompts Sam to wave her hand at him dismissively. Grace watched the entire interaction suspiciously. Grace didn't like it. Not one bit.

"What about after your shift?" Kawada asks, reinforcing the idea that she was not allowed to stay up all night. This read as ascendancy to Grace, and as concern to Sam.

"Uh…" _Shit_ , she thought to herself. They were both looking at her. _They want me to choose or something. God, I hope who I pick won't be taken as some sort of symbolic gesture of who I like better. Please, please, don't let them think that._ "...Maybe...you…could...pretty please?" Grace was nearly brought to smile at this, were she not so tired and in the presence of someone she currently and already hated. At the least, she happy to be chosen above him. She had superiority of importance.

Kawada took a deep breath, but agreed reluctantly. "Yeah, okay."

She looks back and forth between them and saw they were, once again, in a battle of eyes. She gave a short sigh, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted very slightly. She took Grace's bowl to the sink when she was finished eating, and set her up on the bed. Kawada slept on the floor. He was out instantly. And despite his ease and seeming nonchalance with being on the floor, Grace was glad he was learning his place so swiftly.

Sam knew immediately that this was going to be a tough adjustment, _But it's nothing I can't handle… right?_

"Goodnight," she wishes them, though Kawada was asleep by now. She was sitting on a corner in a chair. "Sleep well."

"Farwell," Grace murmurs, despite being a little pissed off still. She was just tired enough to show her consideration. She didn't notice her words, and was falling asleep by the time that Sam responded.

"I'll see you soon."

 _22 participants remain._

Chapter 9: Run In

Sam was eventually pulled from being on guard. At first by Kawada, just in time for the two of them to take down the danger zones at midnight. Area F-07, very close to the little house they were staying in, would be a danger zone at four. It shouldn't be a problem for now, but it did mean that the likelihood of their area becoming a danger zone was likely. They'd probably have to move tomorrow. Sam briefly discussed heading toward the house with a well not too far from where they were, but was promptly set off to bed with the promise of discussing it tomorrow. Grace was in the bed, still, and Sam didn't have the heart to wake her, nor the guts to try and scoot her over to share. Instead, she decided to stay by Kawada. She tried to talk more of plans anyway, but was hushed.

Kawada sat on the floor, back to the wall, watching ahead at the door and windows. There was a concrete wall that was very useful, and let him have a back that he didn't need to watch. Sam sat beside him, blanket over her. But sitting upright was no way for her to sleep, and no matter how tired she was, she couldn't bring herself to fall asleep that way. There was too much going through her head. Another person to be concerned for, food to plan rations for, tensions to diffuse…

"Kawada?" She asks quietly, eyes half open and mind running a million miles an hour despite how fatigued it was.

"Mm?" He hummed in response, not glancing down at her, just continuing to stare ahead with his gun at his side.

"I'm gonna use you as a pillow."

"How- Anata wa nani o shite iru nodesu ka?!"5 Hardly giving him a moment to be confused, her head was resting against his leg and curling up under her blanket. She may've been on the floor, but he was a comfort enough to make up for that. She clearly trusted him way too much, and once again the thoughts came to him. _Just like Keiko…_ It made him sigh, but he didn't bother her or move her off. He let her stay as she was, even going so far as to push some pieces of her short hair from her face.

"Yoi yume o, Samantha."6 He murmurs, moving the large gun so it wouldn't be near her, yet still accessible. She was all but asleep by the time he spoke. She couldn't exactly tell whether she was dreaming or not, being she'd never heard him say her name since the first time he learned it. But since sleep followed soon after, it was likely that she'd blame her subconscious.

Kawada and Sam stayed in that general posing until Grace woke up at around three forty-five. He had, however, rested his arm over her at some sat upright slowly, rubbing her eyes, spotting them almost instantly. She rolls her eyes, getting out of bed with a huff. She didn't say anything, just stood above him and waited for him to get the hint. There was a few moments of glaring between the two, but Sam turning onto her side caught their concentration. When she moved, her head fell off the side of his leg and hit the floor. She was brought to a slight wake, though it was as much from the impact as from Grace's muffled laughter. Kawada scowled up at her, before very carefully pulling the half-conscious Sam into his arms. He made a cautious stand, passing the protectively staring Grace. She gave him a look as dangerous as her axe, _I swear to God, if he ever tries anything… I won't let anyone take advantage of her. Especially not this dick._

Kawada brought Sam to the bed Grace had previously inhabited. He set her down. "Grab me her blanket," he requests. Grace's eyes move towards their corners, and narrow. _What's wrong with my blanket?_ Defiantly, she walks over, and pulls her blanket over Sam instead. It was just a blanket, after all. Who cared whose was whose? In reply to her spite, he mumbles "...Gankona o shiri..."7 under his breath.

Grace went to take his previous spot on the floor, kicking his gun away in favor of her own handheld. Kawada did not take kindly to that, picking up his gun roughly, placing it away with a fair amount of concern, then grabs his blanket and lays on the floor not too far from where Sam was. He purposefully turned his back to her, which made her lip curl. _What an ass…_ They both thought this of one another at nearly the same exact time.

It's been her shift for a few hours, but she was still wide awake. She kept surveying the area inside, listening intently for anything that could be a threat, or peaking out the window to see if anything more silent was coming. But alas, things had been quiet so far. The only thing she heard was the quiet breathing of the people across from her, the only thing she saw outs was the pitch darkness of the early morning. It was passed just after six, she knew that much. She'd taken down the morning danger zones and written them all down on all of their maps. Luckily, they didn't have to move.

She was even so nice as to write in on Kawada's, but mostly because Sam would've yelled at her if she hadn't. Sam seemed to like that guy. Not to sound childish, but Grace thought she _like_ -liked him. And she wasn't unsure that Kawada felt similarly. _At the very least, he feels protective of her._ She thinks to herself, watching them for a few moments. _Just looking at how they slept together was enough. Seriously, ew. They're so obvious to everyone but themselves._

Grace had a point. Kawada had his arm around Sam, her head on his lap. It really disturbed Grace more than it would most. Aside from the fact that Sam had to trust Kawada enough for the both of them, she'd always had issue with her friend's choices of lover. True, they weren't nearly that far yet, but she still didn't like even the possibility. Kawada, in a similar sense, didn't like the idea of Grace's constantly opposing opinion interfering with his new partner and their survival chances. He didn't know much of their friendship from her side, he'd only heard what Sam had told him of her from both before and during Battle Royale. What he heard from the during lead him to completely mistrust Grace. Though it's not as though she trusted him any more. She could guess by the blood stains flecked along his clothing that he was no saint. This mutual distrust led them both to be separately concerned for Sam's wellbeing, yet with different goals in mind. Sam however had no qualms with either of them. She had more history with Grace to back her trust, but Kawada proved himself trustworthy, too, in Sam's mind. This was what Grace couldn't begin to understand. How could she trust someone so much in a day? Was he that good at protecting her? Was he better than she was at it?

Grace would have gone into further analysis of the situation had she not heard a noise. Her head snapped in the direction of the door. She stands and walks to the window, peeking out. Far-but not far enough for her comfort-she saw the occasional flash of light. She makes her way to the door, grabbing her axe as she went. She tucked her gun in her waistband, on safety so she didn't end up shooting herself, and slips out the door. She stalks forward, looking in every direction as she quietly makes her way forward. She hears nothing for long while, but keeps moving forward anyway. Slowly, she starts to hear it clearer.

Screaming, crying, rapid gunfire.

Several people were being killed nearby. She continues forward, eventually arriving upon the seen. It was the other veteran player, waving a machine gun around wildly as a group of girls fall like flies with a bug zapper. She raises an eyebrow, walking forward. This guy was a total threat, and he had a lot of weapons. If she could quietly make her way up to him, maybe, just maybe, she could catch him off guard and take care of this issue.

She works on this plan, moving forward slowly, quietly. She was walking up behind him as he finished off three who still lived.

 _Bratatat_.

Three shots to one girl's head.

 _Bratat._

Two in the other's chest. Then, he just had fun with it.

 _Bratatatatatatatatat_ —

She pulled her gun from her side within a second and pressed it to his temple, holding the other side of his head so he couldn't pull away suddenly. She was a surprisingly even match to his quietness, and this surely caught him off guard, giving her an advantage. He didn't say a thing, but Grace surely did. A bit of her cocky side came out, "You're good, impressive. But not enough, apparently. Drop the gun." He does. Dying wasn't his plan, killing was.

And she just made his proprieties list.

Grace had her finger on the trigger, grilling his hair tightly so he couldn't get away. Shoot, shoot. She had to shoot. She knew this, somewhere in the back of her head, and yet the only thing that she could think was: _His hair is really soft._

Kiriyama quickly used her distraction for his benefit, and spins to push her down. His hair was ripped from her grip, and she pulled the trigger. He pinned her wrists to her side, his legs keeping hers down.

She'd missed.

He gives a smile, a terrifying smile that clearly said 'You're going to die'. Grace's eyes were locked with his, but her hand was gripping at ground. Her axe was just an inch away if she could just—

He had a gun to her head now, she had a free hand now. _Play this right, Grace._ She told herself _, Screw up and you're dead._

With a quick movement, she reached the axe and swung. She didn't have it facing the right way to kill him, instead hitting him with the flat side of the metal square. It was a hard enough hit to knock him off her.

Grace got very lucky here, the only thing Kiriyama could think about was the stars he saw floating above him that lulled him to pass out. He struggles against their tempting offer, which gives Grace her chance to quickly get up and take what she she can while he was still out of commission. She grabbed her handgun, his handgun, the machine gun, and her axe.

With all these held helter-skelter in arms, she took off for Sam and Kawada. They had to leave quickly, now, immediately, not a moment of hesitation. Pack up and rush off somewhere else. As soon as he woke, he'd go after them for sure. But Grace was too disoriented by her near-death to think of killing him.

In the battle of fight or flight, flight won this round.

 _17 participants remain._

Chapter 10: Runaways

"Get up!" Grace commanded the second she flung open the door. It whacked the wall harshly, so if Grace's loud order didn't wake them, that sure as hell would. She dropped the haphazardly held weaponry she had in her arms on the floor, grabbing her bag and shoving them in. She looked up, ready to shout at them again, but saw they were already up and, though startled, were working to pack themselves up as well. Sam pulled all the blankets off of the bed, not bothering to fold them, while Kawada made a dash to collect the non-perishable food and helped her shove it inside one of the bags as rapidly as he could manage. He had his gun in his hand seconds after, as did Grace, while Sam threw two bags over her shoulders so they'd have a lighter load in case they need to fight, which she expected would happen without a doubt. Grace kept the newly acquired machine gun with her, rather than her previously preferred axe or a handgun. Sam took this to mean that she expected quick kills to be necessary, but really, Grace just wanted to use it. She felt she deserved it. _I fought for it, I won it, I earned it, I nearly died for it. Like hell I'm going to let it go to waste!_

"What the hell happened?!" Sam asks, panicked but packed, heading out the door with them. She couldn't help but eye the scrapes and forming bruises on her friend, making a mental note to take care of those as soon as possible.

"Kiriyama," Grace replied as she rushed from the house, leading them away and in the exact opposite direction from whence she came. She was speaking low, due to Kawada's presence, but didn't go completely mute this time. There was too much to explain, too much at stake, for her to properly stay quiet no matter how much she wanted to.

"Who?!" Sam questions.

"He's the other volunteer." Kawada was jogging beside Sam rather than where he could easily have managed by Grace. While Grace navigated, he'd keep eye over Sam and the supplies.

"Eh?" Sam asks, both to who he meant and his grab at one of the two bags she was carrying. Grace had her weapons bag, Kawada had his one bag from way before they'd first met, and Sam had had her and Grace's two supply bags. But now, Kawada had taken one of her two, lightening her load.

"Fluffy hair," Grace adds to jog her memory. She knew how Sam's mind worked. "Nice face. Hugged his bag when he left. Killed lots of people, twice almost including me."

"Ohh," She began in understanding, quickly followed up by a, " _Oh shit._ He's-"

"Skilled," Grace cut off her would-be affirmation of the fear he brought her to feel, the fear he brought all of them. Even if in lower doses for Kawada and Grace.

The rag-tag trio continued running for as long as their legs could carry and their lungs could bear. They were eventually far enough and drained enough to decided walking would be beneficial and safe. They needed to find themselves a new place to stay, to collect themselves and makes sure they didn't leave anything too important behind. And, more importantly, to come up with a plan for themselves. Grace seriously pissed off Kiriyama and there was not a doubt among them that he'd been seen again. If they weren't ready, they'd be done for.

"There's another house close by," Kawada brings up after a time. "If we keep heading north, we should make it there before noon."

While Grace was still on edge, in some way expecting Kiriyama to suddenly pop out of no where and wishing she had it in her to start them all running again, Sam was looking up at kawada with wide, doe-eyed trust. "Really?"

"Yeah," He meets her gaze with a small nod, reassuring her of it's safety with a, "Not many people go there, so we should be fine...Though, it's pretty run d-"

"Who cares?!" Grace exclaimed suddenly, her first word in the past half hour of running and walking. The gooey looks their conversations elicit, mostly from the obvious Sam, were starting to get to her already. As easy to read as a book cover, Grace could tell Sam felt something for him, or was starting to. Even if Sam herself had no idea. "There's a teenage sociopath headed our way and we're taking a leisurely stroll through this goddamn forest! Who cares what it's like or where it is, let's just go!" Grace stomped ahead in her fit, leaving Sam with a puppyish expression across her face and Kawada looking a bit peeved.

"Come on," Kawada requests, calling Sam's attentions. He nods in a way to direct her forward. "You walk ahead. I'll lag behind."

"Oh," Sam says quietly. She recognized this, her parents did that to her when she was young. They'd go on bike rides together, and they'd always position her to ride in the middle of them in a line, saying it'd be safer. "Okay, if you want me to."

The three travel on. Kawada was directing them which way to go, but Grace insisted upon taking lead as well and watching her map to see exactly where it was they were headed and how to get there. Sam was content just traveling in between them, but didn't exactly enjoy the small battle that raged between them silently, that of which flare up on occasion of one or the other talking. She was actually thankful for her position in the middle, having no qualms with staying there. Though they may have thought this to be because she was heavily protected, in reality it was because she could prevent them from wringing each other's necks. She would've put herself there no matter what, simply to prevent their fighting. _I trust both of them with a lot of things. Each other is not one of those things._

For the most part, things stayed civil and quiet. It was late morning on day three, the games were half over, and the number of players were dwindling. It was a high-risk time, but an easier one. Soon this would be over, soon they'd be through with this, maybe even be back home. But it didn't feel right. Sam had such an...ominous feeling. She tried to chalk it up to being left over anxiety from their rushed awakening, but even she couldn't get herself to buy that. It was going to get bad soon. She couldn't avoid it, couldn't put a positive spin on it. Things were going to get intense, deadly.

With a deep breath, she tries to make it passed this. "So," Sam begins, trying to break the harsh silence that surrounded them, "What's this issue you and Kiriyama seem to be having?" Both Grace and Kawada attempted to answer, cutting themselves off when they heard the other. This did not, in any way, ease Sam's fear. She'd heard stories from Kawada about the lunatic, what he'd done in previous games, what he was doing now...how he enjoyed it… but the fact that both of them had beef with one of the most dangerous participants didn't sit well with her, for obvious reasons. "I...I meant...Grace... for her to answer…"

Kawada cleared his throat, frowning. Grace was smiling very slightly, very pridefully. Luckily for her, the two behind her couldn't see. Sam would've whacked her arm for being happy about his honest mistake. They truly had a sibling-like rivalry in the making, though with far more tension and dislike, not to mention mistrust. "We keep running into each other," Grace finally says, after a lot of prompting from Sam. She moved closer to Grace so Kawada wouldn't ear as easily, or more likely not at all. "What's with you and Kawada?"

"Huh?" Sam tilts her head in confusion at Grace. Her question had prevented Sam from asking more about the Kiriyama situation. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Sam," Grace says as she rolls her eyes. "I'm not stupid."

"Well, clearly, I must be, because I don't understand."

"You made an alliance with him real quick, were laughing with him when I found you, trust him with your life in a day's time, and slept on him last night. I repeat, I'm not stupid."

Sam had an firm and correct inkling of what she was getting at, but preferred when people were outright and direct with her, rather than hinting due to a nearly paralyzing fear of getting things wrong and upsetting the person she was talking to. So, instead, she just repeats herself. "I still don't understand."

Grace sighs, the exasperation in the simple gesture hitting Sam hard, "I know you like him. God, this is so teenager-y, can we just move on?" Sam couldn't bring a proper answer to come to mind, let alone be released from her lips. _Wasn't Grace the one who brought all this up?_

"Alright," She agrees, compulsively adding, "Sorry." Sam drifted back behind her friend, in the middle once again, but not for long. Kawada made his way forward.

"Everything okay?" He asks, leaning in as to lessen the likelihood of Grace overhearing.

"Super duper," Sam replies, moving her eyes from the walking Grace and approaching farmhouse in front of her to Kawada. Upon seeing how close he was, she quickly diverted her eyes. "She was just telling me a little about Kiriyama."

"Like what?" He inquires, eyes suspicious and eyeing Grace. "Is that all?"

"Well, no, she just told me they keep running into each other, but…"

"But?"

"You know, just asking me about...you...too...and stuff."

His voice grew darker, "Asking what?"

"Just...stuff."

"Samantha."

"Just about...the nature of our partnership."

"She doesn't trust me."

Sam was relieved that he misinterpreted, quickly replying, "Well...it's not as if you can say you don't think the same of her." Kawada was silent. Their conversation ended, Sam was once again left in the middle, only this time with twice as many things on her mind with half the importance of what had previously occupied it. Grace would occasionally glance over her shoulder to match the glare Kawada was burning into her back. Sam was wondering to herself if Grace had a point, and couldn't bring herself to say yes, but also couldn't eliminate a no. She didn't like the idea of this happening during a survival game, and quickly pushed it out of her mind as fully as she could. This wasn't the place, and it was a tedious practice to get preoccupied with things like that while trying not to die. But, that was the logical side of her mind. The emotional side was making her heart beat faster at the proposition. All this led to immense confusion and minor detest for her indecisive brain.

"Jeez, this place really is run down," Grace comments as if to insult Kawada's choosing. "It looks like a bomb went off here. I wonder if it did. How many people do you think would've died here, if it did?"

"Grace!" Sam scolds, "Don't say things like that!"

Kawada was eyeing her with, if at all possible, less trust than before. Grace's interest in the weaponry, the way people were killed, and the like didn't sit well with him. "Let's just get inside," he says, "No point in standing around outside."

"I think the roof is broken," Sam observes as the walk inside, "What if it rains?"

"We go to the other, not-so-caved-in side of the house." Grace spoke as if it was the most simplistic and logical answer offerable. But Kawada was in the premises now, so her speaking was put on hold.

"I hardly think that's an effective method of keeping dry," Sam says, turning to Kawada, "What do you think? About the possibility of it raining?"

"We move to the other side," He says with a shrug. Grace let out a laugh, and Sam stared at the two of them in awe, _Maybe, just maybe, they'll be able to get along._

"That's a horrible idea," Grace says. _Or not._ "We'll never keep dry that way. I thought you were supposed to be useful?"

Kawada's lip curls, and he grumbles, "Anata wa seikō."8

"Oh! Oh! Sam! He's cursing at me!" Grace exclaims, surprisingly quietly, and pinches at Sam's arm.

"What?" Sam asks, turning to look at her with surprise.

"Seikō, I know that word, it means… it's a cuss." Grace wasn't the cursing type, so it was unlikely that she'd tell Sam exactly which one.

"Kawada?" Sam inquires, "Did you...mumble something, uh...negative about Grace?"

"Eh?" He asks, looking over, confused. "What? No."

"I heard you," Grace was halfway behind Sam, glaring at him, her face adorned with a snakelike expression.

"Kawada…" Sam tuts, sounding much like a disappointed mother. "You can't curse at Grace just because you get frustrated."

"Kanojo wa onaji koto o surudarou!"9 He snaps at them both, pointing a finger at Grace. "Seikō sake no tame ni!"10

"Kawada!" Sam warns, pulling from Grace's side and holding her hands up defensively. This was quickly becoming a bad situation. She quiets her voice, trying to be more sympathetic and soothing than anything. "...Okay, Kawada, okay. No need to shout, it's fine. Let's just… not curse, okay? Please?" Kawada was eyeing Grace, the two of them staring each other down. "Hey, hey." Sam calls for his attention, waving her hand in front of his face. "Come on, Kawada, please? Pretty please?" He looks down at her, sighs, and finally replies.

"...Fine," He looks away from her now, as did Grace as she got all grumbly.

"Grace, this applies to you, too," Sam says, "You have to be nicer."

"No," she replies.

"Grace…"

"No."

" _Grace._ "

"Fine, _fine_!"

 _15 participants remain._

1 I don't like this! I don't like this!

2 Where are we?!

3 I want to go home!

4 Where are we? Where are we?! WHERE ARE-

5 How- What are you doing?!

6 Sweet dreams, Samantha.

7 Stubborn ass.

8 You fuck.

9 She would do the same thing!

10 For fuck's sake!


End file.
